


Journey of a Jedi

by Merfilly



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Slice of Life, other characters briefly included, reference to canon death of a character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-17 10:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10591836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: Kit Fisto, Master of the Council and victim of Sheev Palpatine... yet what were his beginnings? From child to full-fledged Knight, we see him grow.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/gifts).



> All my gratitude to my beta and cheerleader.

Nautolans, due to their environmental needs, were one of the many groups of species that sent their children to the Temple slightly later than humans did. Kit Fisto was no exception to that, staying with his parents and extended kin until he was human-equivalent three standard years old, or nearly five in his own species' terms. A very strong objection from his uncle, Neaed, to his mother had almost blocked the young Nautolan from becoming a Jedi, but in the end, his very strength in the ability to use the Force persuaded the older man it was for the best. 

On the day of separation, Kit blinked wide eyes up into the sun, standing on the beach near one of the space ports used by the tourists to their world, and looked out over the ocean he had lived in his whole life. His mother held him on her hip, their tentacles entwined in familial affection, right up until the strangers came to stand before them. Kit stared at the tall being covered in… hair? Fur? … and the one wearing lenses and a breathing apparatus.

"Jedi Master Tyvokka. Jedi Knight Plo Koon," his mother said, using Basic as he had been taught to, when dealing with those not of their own species. "My son, Kit Fisto."

"The boy seems to be growing quite strong, Nereia," Plo said, as she set him down on his own two feet. Plo crouched down to be at eye level with Kit, who studied his face with curiosity and no fear. "Do you understand why my Master and I are here today, Kit?"

"To take me to the Temple on Coruscant, to see if I am capable of becoming a Jedi?" Kit asked, only slightly uncertain, now that he was being asked questions. He had thought everything was settled.

"And you are ready to undertake this journey?" Plo pressed. "To leave your family, and become a student of the Force?"

"Yes, I am, sir," Kit told him, putting his full weight of wanting the opportunity behind his words. He saw the tiny protrusions on the sides of the breathing apparatus twitch, and thought the Jedi Knight was amused or pleased. The bigger one made low growls and noises, before Plo stood tall and bowed low to Kit's mother.

"The Jedi Order is grateful for the opportunity to teach your son, Nereia. I am certain he will thrive."

"I know that he will. I may barely be sensitive, but I have felt it was his place since he was spawned," Nereia answered that. "No matter my brother's thoughts on the matter."

Kit saw the little protrusions twitch again.

"Do tell Neaed I am sorry he did not come to the farewell, and I still hold him in high honor," Plo said, with more of those growling sounds from the furred man echoing him. "As does my master." He then reached down with a taloned hand, offering it to the small boy, who wrapped his hand around one finger, leaving his family and homeworld behind for his future.

`~`~`~`~`

Kit learned, in time, that both Master Tyvokka and Knight Plo Koon had been present when he first manifested his force abilities, making them both his Finders. That they had personally come for him was not because of that, but due to promises made to his uncle, when the debate over Kit's training first began. Both men knew his uncle, had battled alongside him in a conflict, and were considered honorable by the elder Nautolan.

For Jedi, that was impressive enough, given that Kit knew his uncle's opinions.

In the Temple, Kit excelled in the Terazod youngling clan, getting along well with the other aquatic and semi-aquatic younglings, as well as exploring friendships with non-aquatic beings. The senior padawans and young Knights that minded the clans could not fault him for being outgoing, open, and friendly. No one found it easy to bully him; Kit ignored bullying tactics against himself, and quickly set about deflecting it from others.

He had, after all, been one of the oldest of a spawn of youngsters in his extended family, and had not put up with that behavior there.

When he was twelve by his planet's calendar, and the equivalent of a human ten year old, he was chosen by a Knight to become a padawan, having already proven that he knew how to use his lightsaber, how to manipulate objects via the Force, and shown an aptitude for negotiation. His master was a Falleen woman, which made Kit so amused. His ability with his tentacles to detect smells and pheromones was pitted against her species' ability with creating pheromones, something she was more than willing to put to the test.

Knight Areen Jepet was intrigued by the growing skills Kit had in blanking himself to the Force and all mind probes. 

"Are you certain you do not wish to be a Guardian or a Sentinel? The skills your uncle has been imparting to you on your visits home would make you quite adept at such," she pointed out. "By furthering your natural olfactory abilities, you would be at the top of either path."

"As a Consular, I can use such to prevent being probed by unscrupulous aides, and guide those I advise by reading the more subtle indicators of all sides," Kit told her. "And, should I choose to teach, I will be able to better guide those in need by sniffing out their nervousness, analyzing the causes, and moving forward in ways that assist them in learning despite such."

Areen smiled at him for that answer. For his age, Kit spoke of things in a mature fashion, and she appreciated it. She liked his easy-going nature, and the fact he had never thought to judge her by the general impressions of her species. "I foresee a short apprenticeship, padawan. Let us make the most of it, yes?"

"I truly hope so, master," he said. "But I feel no need to rush to Knighthood, either. I want to learn it all!"

"Bold words, my little padawan, and I do not know nearly half of all there is to teach you, but we will make the most of what I can teach, yes?"

"Yes!"

`~`~`~`~`

Knowing Kit wished to follow the Consular path, Areen kept him close to the Temple for the first few years. She arranged for various Knights and Masters to tutor him in cultures, in psychology, basic healing, and tactics. As Consulars prided themselves on only drawing a lightsaber in dire times, she never pushed him to take a more aggressive form, preferring to hone his Shii-Cho to its most exemplary form. 

After watching her in a full spar against Knight Jinn, with both using Ataru, Kit started studying it, especially as it gave the chance to practice with two lightsabers, for Jar'Kai was a common adaptation of the Form. 

"Why do you now wish to learn the aggressive form?" Areen asked him, after finding him practicing the basic form against drones.

"I like the exercise it gives, master," he told her. "I must focus, as I move, because my tentacles do like to try and join the dance!"

Areen laughed, and matched him then in the starting pose. "I will be glad to share my Form with you, and it is good to know more than one well. You will excel in Shii-Cho, and that is what you will be known as using. Having Ataru, especially with the ability to use two blades, will be a good, hidden asset."

"One I hope not to need for more than a friendly spar, but it is good to be prepared," he agreed with her. He then threw himself into the practice, mimicking her motions. After that, when they sparred, it was often a test of Areen's reflexes, to keep up with her student, as he proved more than capable of shifting between the two combat forms with little warning to her trained eye.

`~`~`~`~`

The first negotiation Areen took her padawan to was on an aquatic planet. While she was a little uncomfortable in the protective gear, Kit shed his robes gladly and followed their guide to the negotiation point under the waves with all the ease of his species. They were passed through air locks into a dry environment, where Kit reluctantly pulled his robes out of the sealed backpack and settled them back into places.

"I'm sure the Pan-preneur will let you swim some more, as negotiations go on, my little padawan," Areen told him, taking note to try and find more time and missions on worlds where Kit could indulge his nature. 

"Sonn Vilmari's water is different. The salt content is higher than Glee Anselm, and the water feels denser," Kit said. "It makes for a challenging swimming environment."

"And we all know that you, my padawan, love a challenge!" Areen teased him, just to see his tentacles flick with his discomfiture. She reached out to straighten a band on a pair of them, and he inclined his head for the assistance. Together, they went to see what they could do to ease the power struggle between two rival clans.

The two parties of Pan-preneur joined them in the conference room, each airing their side of the story. Areen listened, but she also watched her padawan as he listened to them. It was very important to her that he excel on his chosen path, or be encouraged to find a different one if the skills were actually lacking.

Areen was pleased to see that compassion, a trait her own people were notorious for ignoring, was present in her padawan at levels that left him sympathetic to all sides in negotiations, yet he was tempered by enough logic to be able to make difficult choices. She did not insult their hosts by allowing him to handle the talks directly, but after each talk, she would ask his impressions, and what he might do.

Rarely did she find fault with his assessments.

`~`~`~`~`

They were on Demesel the first time Kit came face to face with outright slavery. He had been admiring the designs on a bounty hunter's armor when a blast of unhappiness caught him in the Force, jerking his head around before he could even begin to control the impulse. Areen followed his gaze to see as a very young Twi'leki was being jerked by their shoulder toward a door, away from the reaching hands of the Twi'leki woman. The human beside the adult Twi'lek was slipping credits away, and Areen realized what had happened swiftly. She reached out, placing a hand on her padawan's shoulder, feeling all the tension in his frame through the point of contact.

"Come, Padawan. That is not why we are here," she said firmly, even as she sympathized with him. Her own people were notorious for how they created slave-like conditions with their criminal holdings, but she knew she could not get involved. Not here, not now, and she had to help Kit understand that.

Kit resisted for a moment, his eyes following the child as they disappeared inside the door of the business, before he forced himself to look up at his master. "Why?"

Areen took a deep breath to steady, and kept her hand on his shoulder, not minding when the tentacle nearest her wrist wrapped around it. "We will discuss such things later, after our mission. You must focus, Kit, and push yourself to remain in the now of our duty. Can you do this for me, Padawan?"

The youth drew into himself, reached for the Force, and then let go of his agitation as best he could, aided by Areen consciously releasing calming pheromones for his sake. After a long moment, he nodded, and the tentacle around her wrist released. 

"This is not the Republic. We cannot enforce Republic law here. But I do wish to understand why it is allowed to flourish, why people are put through this," he told her as he moved with her toward their destination.

"And we shall discuss it, for I share your emotional reaction while having a logical argument on everything you just asked," his master said warmly.

`~`~`~`~`

Areen Jepet, Knight for enough years to be comfortable in her robes and philosophy on life, tried very hard to find the right words to handle this thorny subject with her exceptional padawan. They were in the cabin they shared aboard the freighter heading back to Coruscant, the negotiation on Demesel completed successfully and without a single clash of lightsabers, but with much unease in the youth she guided.

"Slavery is illegal in the Republic. Slavery is discouraged among our allies, but still flourishes in the Outer Rim," she stated. "More, and you will see this, there are forms of slavery that exist inside the Republic that are not called that," she admitted. Kit's tentacles twitched openly; he made no attempt to control them, as he could smell the unhappiness in her chemistry. She did not chide him; they were private and could afford honesty even in emotions.

"Then why do we do nothing, if the Jedi are meant to help? Is this one of the points that make my uncle so uneasy about the Jedi?" he asked her.

That last made Areen consider, even as she folded down to a more meditative sitting pose, approving when Kit mimicked her. 

"Possibly? I do not know much about the people your uncle is part of, but I understand that a very long time ago, the original founders of that sect came into conflict with the Jedi, and grievances were never redressed by the Order. In you, and those that Neaed Fisto has agreed to ally to among the Order, it is hoped there shall be peace between our groups at last." She then shook her head. "And that took us away from the conversation we are supposed to have.

"The Jedi would dearly love to end slavery, both the overt and the subtle versions of it," Areen told him. "However, we, as a whole, do not have the manpower to truly solve the problem on a galactic stage. Sometimes, we are able to negotiate an end within a system, by finding the economic causes, assisting the local elements that oppose it in overcoming the economic side of it, and then guiding them in setting up a stable system that keeps it from coming back."

Kit listened, following that, and had the flash of understanding that showed how quickly he thought. "Because if you do not find the root cause and eradicate it, as well as planting an alternative way in place, there would be instability that could lead to worse?"

Areen smiled broadly at him. "Indeed, my young padawan. This is actually how we aided the Republic in originally ending the practice in its member systems. We analyzed the patterns for them, and aided the abolitionists in finding economic alternatives to make slavery unprofitable, thus literally putting slavers out of business.

"However, ones like the Zygerrian Empire still flourished and worked with Hutts, Toydarians, and others that operate in the Outer Rim to keep slavery alive. Other factors, such as poverty and questionable resources such as Ryloth faces, led to some systems willingly cooperating with the practice, selling off their own members." Areen shook her head then. "The Falleen are culpable in this, Kit. Their underground operations use indebtedness to create a slavery class that is free in name, but not practice. That is one example of the subtler forms of slavery."

Kit frowned, a rare enough expression on his face, but made more serious in this moment by the tentacle giving voice to his full agitation. "I think, Master, that as I travel with you, and if I should make Knight and take up my own duties, I will make note of where such practices are, and other problems within their systems, so that the Jedi can begin to further dismantle the institution. No being should have possession of another, I feel."

His Master reached out and took his hands in both of her own, nodding. "You will be a Knight, my padawan, and a great one, I foresee. Be careful not to let this quest you granted yourself tear you from the Light, by blinding you to other troubles, but it is a good one to take up."

"I will not lose myself, Master."

`~`~`~`~`

For any mission to end in less than civilized talks was a failure in Kit Fisto's eyes. He had served by his Master's side for nine years, and that was his firm benchmark of defeat. 

Now, as he masterfully suppressed the pain in one minor side tentacle from a glancing blaster burn, and watched over his Master in the med-berth, he knew he had been correct all along. One more failed attempt to end the war between the Melida and the Daan, and two injured Jedi to show for it was a massive loss to all the innocents that would keep suffering for the war there.

The tentacle was the only injury paining him currently, because he'd refused bacta on the sensitive appendage; he didn't care for the smell that close to his olfactory receptors and it was a very minor burn. The worse one, where a bolt had actually penetrated his defense of his master when she fell, was bandaged on front and back of his shoulder. He hadn't even gone to find a new tunic yet, let alone a new robe. The ship's med droid had not been pleased at his refusal to lie down.

"Are you being stubborn again, my dear padawan?" his master asked without even opening her eyes at first. 

"Me, Master? Of course I am."

Now Areen did open her eyes, managing a smile for him, even as he leaned down to help adjust her pillows to make her more comfortable. "And I see you are parading around again," she added, noting his bare physique. He laughed; it was an ongoing argument about 'letting his skin breathe' versus Jedi modesty.

"You should probably still be sleeping," he told her. "You took a blast that instigated a biological cascade failure."

"Go worry over bitlets, padawan," she fussed back at him. "I am already assessing the damage and you got me to the med-droid quickly enough." She shifted to get a hand on his knee, letting that point of contact feed her knowledge of his well-being. "You were hurt."

"A minor blast, Master, I promise," he told her. "We are safe off that planet, and both of us will heal." However, his unease at failure communicated itself, and she shifted her hand to find his, fingers resting on the top of it once she had.

"Every generation, it feels like, the Jedi send a team. Every generation, we are rebuffed," she told him gently. "That they chose us, Kit, is a testimony to you and your skill, for the success rate we have had in such."

"I am but a humble padawan, learning from my master in her skills," Kit demurred.

"Perhaps for but a short time more, my dear one."

Kit's tentacles all flinched… including the hurt one, and he hissed a little… at her words. "I am not ready."

"It is a Master's judgment that chooses that, Kit. Now, go lie down. We both should rest for the trip home."

`~`~`~`~`

To say the Trials had taken all he had and then touched the reserves he'd never realized were there, was to only begin to touch upon the way Kit felt as he exited the Hall.

His master was waiting there, still sitting in the serene pose of meditation. He wearily fell down to sit beside her, and did not protest when she opened her space to let him rest his head on her shoulder.

"You completed the Trials, my padawan," she said softly. "I followed as best I could through our bond, and you handled each challenge adeptly."

"I'm exhausted," Kit said, "and only care that I am done."

"Then let me take you to quarters and help you into your pool to relax and rest properly," she told him.

"In a moment, my master. I do have questions, about the choice I made concerning the innocent and my duty, for it left me troubled," Kit said. "Is there ever a situation where we can avoid the sacrifice and still manage our duty?"

"Sometimes, Kit. Sometimes that answer will show itself. It is hard to move past one in need, but you knew the fate of hundreds rested on your choice," Areen told him, arm around his shoulders. "It is one of the hardest parts of having empathy for all, and reaching out to care for the many. You will face such decisions as you take up your duties for the Order, and can only evaluate them as they come."

"May the Force guide me wisely each time," he murmured. He rested his head against her shoulder for some time, until she unfolded her legs and coaxed him to his feet. It did not take much Force effort for her to pick him up, over his protests, and take him to their shared quarters. Tomorrow would be soon enough for the formality of Knighting him. For now, he was still hers to care for.

`~`~`~`~`

Knight Kit Fisto bowed deeply to the Muun, but this was Master Tyvokka's negotiation. He was uncertain why the Muun had felt it necessary to congratulate him on his recent promotion. He just knew it would have been rude to not acknowledge the man. 

"Master Tyvokka, these incursions into the outer edges of the Republic by the Trade Federation are exceptionally risky for our commerce activities. My young aide here has established data points to educate the Order on this matter," Damask said, indicating the human on his left.

"I object mightily," the representative of the Trade Federation stated. Kit's tentacles twitched slightly at the scent in the air, as he adapted to two species he had not previously dealt with. Master Tyvokka was easy enough to filter out; he had taken classes with his Finder a handful of times and knew the usual markers for a Wookiee. "We have a right and a charter, from the Republic, to pursue our contracts with those systems closest to us."

"Your definition of 'close' is rather slippery," Damask accused. 

"Is it not, honorable men, that the true problem of import here is the secondary stream of commerce?" Tyvokka said through the translation device he wore for the sake of others.

"I would not place it in such crude terms," Damask began.

"Yes, that is why they move to block us!" Gunray, the Trade Federation representative stated. "We offer our services without going through their banking stranglehold."

Tyvokka glared at each, and the weight of his elder years plus the Force made the pair be silent. Kit could not detect anything from either to indicate the encounter was anything other than a simple trade dispute, and yet…

…for a dispute, he began to see that each was moving as if on a script. The human aide for Damask always had just the right data points ready, as Gunray's aide was quick to hand him the retaliatory ones. Kit filtered all of the olfactory perceptions of this, took in the very young Senator that was watching the proceedings to witness any actual deal reached, and came to a conclusion he would check with Master Tyvokka later.

When the negotiation ended with a concession on trade routes in exchange for a percentage of profits from any contracts with patrons formally under the Banking Guild's guidance, Kit was certain he was correct and said as much to Tyvokka once they were well away from the senatorial offices.

"That negotiation was a complete sham, wasn't it?" Kit asked. "Master, I swear it was like both parties were working off a script for a HoloDrama."

Tyvokka gave a laugh in his own way. ["Most negotiations on Coruscant itself go like that, young one,"] he replied in Shyriiwook, knowing Kit understood it well. He had been honored to learn that Kit had chosen it as one of his languages to study.

"Then why were we present at all?" Kit pressed, curious and not seeing the immediate reasoning.

["A Jedi was asked for. So we send one. It preserves a formal perception of the proceedings."] He laid a heavy hand on Kit's shoulder to reinforce his words. ["I asked you to join me to both see that methodology and to expose you to two species you did not know. Giving you a baseline on both in a controlled and predictable environment will help you as you progress in your Consular duties."]

Kit grinned at the elderly Wookiee. "Thank you, Master. The aid is much appreciated, as I do intend to pursue a path that allows me to assist in the Senate as much as I may. I sometimes feel that politicians are swayed far too much by special interests rather than their duty to the good of all, and hope I can help guide more to see a better way."

Tyvokka gave a noncommittal sound at that, and Kit was able to parse the impression more from the Force than anything else.

_May you be more successful._

`~`~`~`~`

Master Plo walked alongside the young Knight, his hands clasped behind his back. "It is an unusual situation, not one we have faced terribly often in recent years, but I feel you have the delicacy the situation requires my friend."

Kit listened; since becoming a Knight, he had been honored to team up with Plo Koon many times, and found the Kel Dor Jedi to be a fascinating man, as well as a true friend. He had been there for Plo on Kashyyyk to honor Tyvokka's memory after the esteemed Master had passed away, and knew that the normally calm Jedi had many layers and deep emotions… all without letting them hamper his duty as a Jedi.

It was something that Master Areen had begun helping him to understand, and Plo had furthered, this concept of allowing emotions to exist side by side with duty. 

"I am always willing to assist in any manner I may, Master Plo, but I need to know what I am being asked to do, in order to contemplate it properly."

Plo nodded, his sensory tusks twitching a little. "You know of Tahl's passing, the Archivist?"

"Of course. Master Windu stressed that we must be wary of past attachments because it can lead us astray with false trust," Kit said, using a neutral tone and making all of his tentacles be still. He was not certain that lesson needed to be shared mere days after Jinn and Kenobi returned from her final mission.

Plo let his deep breath out speak for his own displeasure in that. "She left behind a young padawan. Thirteen standard years old, but well-versed in the basic Jedi training. Bant Eerin, who was part of foiling the plot to destroy the Temple a bit over two years ago?"

Kit had to frown as he grasped where this conversation was going. "Master, I have stated before that I do not believe I am ready to be responsible for a young one, to truly guide them into their futures as Knights."

Plo shifted one taloned hand to Kit's shoulder, stopping their walk to face him completely, his scent conveying how serious he was. "This youngling, Kit, is at risk. She and Tahl had a difficult time, as Tahl felt she had been pushed to take Bant so that there would be a watcher for her, to compensate for her disability. Tahl was in the habit of leaving Bant behind on the excuse she was too young. And Bant is harboring guilt for not being with her master as well as resentment at her clan mate, Kenobi, for failing to do more.

"She is a promising padawan, Kit, with a leaning toward healing and consular skills. It is felt that another Jedi with a water-world background would give her a new level of comfort, and perhaps aid her in coming to term with her emotions, so that she can release them and move forward. There have been too many padawans and Initiates lost in the last decades to Darkness. 

"All I ask, my young friend, is that you meet her."

Kit considered all of that, his compassion for the lost young one at odds with his misgivings over his ability to teach.

"Let me think on it this night, and find you tomorrow."

Plo inclined his head, let go of the shoulder, and moved on about his business. Kit turned aside, and headed for the wing where unpartnered Masters resided, seeking Areen.

As always, she let him in without a fuss, moving her many data pads off of the other part of her sofa. "Hello, Kit. What can I do for you?"

Kit watched the pads settle on the little-used table by the holo-window showing a peaceful ocean view. That made him smile; his Master had acquired a taste for the water worlds they had visited during his training.

"Master Plo has asked me to take on the orphaned padawan of Master Tahl," he said, without preamble, as he sat beside her. "I do not believe I am meant, at this time, to be a teacher."

"And yet you have not told him 'no', outright, because?" Areen asked him, eyes meeting his even as she let her pheromones adjust to a calming level, offering him that peace from his storm of emotions.

"The child does need aid. She has not had an easy partnership, per Master Plo's words. She is Mon Cal, and I cannot recall any other Knights without partners who are of water-dwelling species. Master Plo is correct that it might offer her more stability to have someone aware of aqueous needs in this troubled time for her."

The Falleen reached out and took his hand. "My dear padawan-no-longer, you have been Knighted for more than a handful of years. You are constantly seeking new knowledge, bettering yourself. Perhaps, as you do so, you could allow a padawan to share your journey, and encourage her to find herself in the process. Yet, it is not a small thing. Perhaps it is less that you need advice on the actual action, and more that you must find trust in yourself for such?"

Kit's hand flexed and then squeezed hers as she came to the crux of his personal conflict. "I should meditate on it."

"So you should. And, if you choose this, I will be glad to guide you in any questions you find. You were not my first padawan. I doubt you will be my last. I enjoy teaching, and I suspect you will learn that you do as well," she predicted.

"We shall see."

`~`~`~`~`

"Will you do me the honor of allowing me to continue teaching you, Bant Eerin? I am not seeking to replace your Master, only to guide you, now that she is one with the Force," Kit said, formally in front of his master, and the Council.

The young Mon Cal hesitated, then inclined her upper body to him. "I am honored, Master Fisto, to learn from you."

It was a brand new chapter in his life, but Kit had found only encouragement in the Force. Perhaps he could learn, just as much as Bant would, from this new partnership. 

At the very least, he would be giving back what his teachers had given him so far.


End file.
